


Moral Quandray

by viklikesfic (v_angelique)



Category: Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-06-16
Updated: 2007-06-16
Packaged: 2017-10-06 00:11:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/v_angelique/pseuds/viklikesfic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>This is a bit from For Sale from Elijah's POV.  First kiss meme fill.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Moral Quandray

**Author's Note:**

  * For [aprilkat](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=aprilkat).



> This is a bit from For Sale from Elijah's POV. First kiss meme fill.

He's unassuming, this lanky boy, and he isn't hypocritical. I get a lot of customers like him, middling businessmen who want you to think they're not interested and then come right back as soon as they've let an acceptable margin of time to qualify as respectability pass. This isn't how I normally act, they want you to think. This is just an aberration. It's your fault.

But this boy is different. He's older than I am, probably, but he still has youngish features. He's not entirely comfortable in his role. He's also honest--I knew from the start I made him uncomfortable, and he didn't deny it or try to act otherwise. It makes charity easier to accept when they're honest, and really I didn't want it to be charity. I wanted to give something to this sweet, unassuming boy.

So now here we are, back at his flat, and he's fussing about and I can tell he's nervous, offering me food, treating me like any guest except that there's this elephant in the room and we both know it. I want to calm him, but I'm not well-versed in calming, so I strip instead. I can see the arousal in his eyes when he turns, and yeah, my horse sense isn't all dried up. I know a Mandrake when I see one, just as I told him, and this one is bent as a nine bob note.

I offer him a free fuck, and it's not something I do often. Sure, there's the price of a roof over my head for the night and two meals, but I'm not kidding anyone. What I want is him.

"I'm not sure," he says, and suddenly I want to convince him. I don't want him to say no, and that feeling is unfamilliar. I use one of my lines, and it tastes sour on my lips even as I say the words. He's not just a punter. He's a good bloke. He could almost be a _friend_. We both know that's not true, of course, but even whores have dreams.

I touch him and he kisses me. It's a bit violent. His teeth snag my lip. I'm getting what I want tonight, though. I'm getting what I want.

Why then, do I care so much about him?


End file.
